


sobrecarga

by uai



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Assassin Armitage Hux, M/M, Prince Ben Organa, bootycreed? bootycreed.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:28:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25017766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uai/pseuds/uai
Summary: Prince Ben suffers an attempt on his life at the hands of someone he believes to be his opposite.For day two of Kylux positivity week 2.0: Opposites Attract
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo, Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29
Collections: Kylux Positivity Week 2.0





	sobrecarga

At the first chance he finds, Ben slips out of public sight.

This is exactly what he feared. He doesn’t know why he expected today to be any different, considering his twenty last birthdays have been celebrated through great festivals and the presence of many people he’d never wanted to meet, so it should be no surprise that the prior mention of a ball was, in fact, what Leia had planned for today, and not one of Han’s poor jokes.

After one too many respectful dances, Ben finds he’s had enough. Excuses fall easily from his tongue and the balcony is just there, tempting him with its emptiness. He’s had years of practice in well timed exits and yet it’s a challenge, traipsing around high society prospective spouses while shielding his face, as the subject of all attention on this day.

Amusing, that his day is also his least favorite one.

The balcony provides a welcome release from that pressure. He can lean against the railing and take in a deep breath, look into the kingdom lights far below and that’s it. He has no other concerns, no one to entertain, everything is the sight of small houses and the silence that comes with being outdoors.

Which is why he immediately hears the sound of boots hitting the floor behind him.

Ben turns around just in time to dodge a sharp blade and see the face of the man who yields it twists from confident concentration to confusion and anger. All are emotions he had yet to see that day and he’s bored enough to give the doors that lead back into the palace nothing but a quick glance before dismissing them. 

Why should he let the guards have all the fun?

The man’s intent isn’t to entertain, but to kill, and while Ben can acknowledge that, it’s the first time in a long while that someone throws a punch at him and actually _hurts_ him. It shouldn’t be thrilling, he shouldn’t find comfort in knowing that there are still people out there who won’t shield him from everything, even if ‘people’ are the ones he’s being kept away from.

“Is that all you can do?” Ben taunts with a grin. He’s holding his bruised side and he’s in a surprising amount of pain but he’s just getting started.

The assassin - red haired, slightly shorter than him, he notices now that his hood fell from his head - raises his eyebrows in disbelief, as if he’s not used to his prey talking back. It comes with the job, Ben supposes. “If you intend to beg for your life, I assure you, you’ll be wasting what little time you have left,” he says. Funny that the voice of the man who’s here to kill him is the only one he hasn’t minded listening to all night - it’s rather melodic, really, and the accent isn’t something he’s heard much of. 

“Pass.” Why wouldn’t he, when he just started having fun? 

“Very well.” The assassin nods and Ben vaguely notices that the blade he had used against him is no longer in sight. Strange. He doesn’t have the time to think about it as the man proves to be a swift fighter, elegant and decisive. Ben can also see that he doesn’t seem to have much practice, otherwise he would have already been doomed long ago, but that only tells him about his effectiveness as an assassin.

Good thing, then, that Ben had already survived a surprise attack.

Ben never attacks him. He parries the other’s fists, pushes back, and eventually, he talks. “This is the most fun I’ve had in years.”

Hands primed to cause more bruises that will litter Ben’s skin for days, the man pauses. “Why are you doing this?”

“I _just_ told you,” Ben answers, rolling his eyes in the most easy going way possible. “It’s fun.”

“No,” he disagrees. That annoys Ben, to a certain extent - he’s tired of being told how to feel about things, even if this person specifically has nothing to do with it. “You’ve had every chance to stop me, yet you didn’t. Why? What is _wrong_ with you?”

“A lot. Do you need a list?”

The man’s hands fall to his sides as he huffs. “What are you expecting to happen? I’m here to kill you.”

“And I’m still alive,” Ben replies, leaning back into the railing again with his eyes trained on the other, in part because everything _hurts_. “This is a lot better than going back in there. Everyone there… They also want me to die, but they want it to happen after they’ve gotten what they want from me. At least you’re straightforward about it.”

“I’m sure being straightforward about attempting to murder a prince will grant me a pardon.” The way it’s said makes Ben laugh. Just for that, if he could grant him a pardon, he would. 

And maybe he can. “Listen, I don’t think this is getting anywhere. You can keep going until someone notices us but that’ll just be worse on you. Or you can stop now, come back another time, and maybe you’ll catch me by surprise and kill me then. What do you think?”

He seems suspicious. Ben doesn’t let it offend him. “You would let me go?”

“Well, no.” The way the assassin tenses at the words is amusing, but he doesn’t let him suffer for long. “I hope you’ll stick around for a while longer. We can talk. If I’m talking to someone, they,” he gestures with his head to the doors that lead back inside, “won’t interrupt me. We both win something.”

“I… accept your terms.” The assassin seems confused that the words left his mouth at all. Ben thinks it’s oddly cute.

“Great. So, who are you?”

“I thought you were supposed to be smart. I’m an assassin.”

Ben chuckles and shakes his head. “Not that. That’s what you _do_. Who are you? I’m Ben and I’m bored. Well, not anymore, but you get the idea.”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Arms crossed in front of his chest, the man glares at him. “I’m Armitage and I’m not here to entertain you.”

“And yet you’re entertaining me, Armitage.” Despite himself and the fact that clearly hadn’t been the other’s goal at all, Ben is charmed. “Tell me, what brings you here?” The look of disbelief that earns him makes him laugh. “I know why you’re here, but today? And _me_? I’m guessing it takes a certain level of skill.”

“I _am_ skilled,” Armitage protests. “You are the first of my targets to evade me.”

“Thanks!”

“It’s not a compliment.” Ben wants to disagree, but he doesn’t. “I’m _highly_ competent. You were lucky and I assure you that if you let me go, you won’t be so lucky again.”

“Are you trying to convince me to call the guards?” With a raised eyebrow, Ben considers this. It doesn’t take him long to come up with a possibility. “Are you ashamed that you couldn’t kill me?” The furious red shade that takes over Armitage’s cheeks is all the answer he needs. “Don’t be like that, I won’t tell anyone.”

The words earn him a sigh. He waits for a retort but nothing comes and it doesn’t take him long to recognize the kind of silence that settles between them. He doesn’t feel uncomfortable, this conversation isn’t something he feels strongly about, but he’s been on Armitage’s side too often to ignore it. _He’s_ been ignored too often to make the same mistake that his parents, councillors, teachers, _everyone_ makes towards him.

Armitage might be an outlaw whose lifestyle is completely different to his own, yet the similarities between them aren’t ones he can or wants to ignore. 

“I’m not your ordinary target. I’m prince Ben. I’ve been prepared to stand up for myself against threats to my life since I was a kid, you know? Can you say that for the people you’ve…” He gestures with his hand, only then realizing that _fuck_ , this guy has killed before. He would have killed _him_. What is he doing, being nice to this kind of person?

Armitage looks appeased then angry again and such emotions serve to quell Ben’s doubts. Does it _matter_? He’s alive, still, and he’s having an interesting conversation, something he’d thought impossible when he woke up to ball preparations. Just this once, it can’t hurt to indulge in a small dose of impropriety.

“I can’t tell you how to feel, it’s not like we know each other. Maybe you’re focusing too much on what you’re losing and not on what you can gain.” To have made it far enough to actually threaten Ben’s life, Armitage’s stealth is undeniable. “We can pay you more than my death would, offer you some kind of position in the royal guard.”

“I don’t do this for money.”

“Huh.” Ben pauses, reconsidering the man in the light of his last words. “Why, then? What did I do that deserves to be punished with death? Is it because I ate too much of that duck last week?”

“I follow a code.” Armitage’s answer is given with pride, something Ben fails to understand. A code? Rules, then, some kind of underground group that wants him dead. It should frighten him but now, at least, he knows they exist and they’re after him.

“Where’s the fun in that?” He can’t help but ask. Armitage looks puzzled. “You reject the kingdom’s laws only to follow another’s? Wouldn’t it be so much better to follow your own rules?”

The stare he’s at the end of makes him uncomfortable. It makes his hair stand on end and he wants to go back inside only to avoid it, though he doesn’t enjoy the idea of the ball any more than he did before. What he doesn’t like is that he feels as if Armitage is looking into his very soul, analyzing everything he is and everything he’s done and Ben himself has done that often enough to know the only possible outcome.

“Because I have a set of beliefs, even if you don’t. If you would enjoy following your own rules, why don’t _you_?” Ben had expected it, but he feels the sting of the words sharply.

He’s a prince. Future king. At some point in his life, if he outlives his parents, he will rule over the kingdom and then, he can mold it into whatever he wants.

The truth that he doesn’t like admitting to is that with those possibilities comes the burden of being responsible for the entire kingdom. Every action of every person will, eventually, be traced back to something he has done. Ben loathes that. He can barely control the direct consequences of his actions, the idea of getting into politics is one he hates.

And if _he_ , Ben Organa, heir to the crown since birth, doesn’t want the crown, the entire foundation of a monarchy falls apart before his eyes and proves Armitage right in saying that he has no core beliefs.

Startled out of his thoughts by a loud burst of laughter from inside the palace, Ben looks at the window, the hustle he feels is so detached from himself, then at Armitage. Why _doesn’t_ he? What’s stopping him, a government he doesn’t believe in? A family he might as well not be part of?

“You’re right,” he admits out loud for the first time in his life.

Armitage looks like he just spotted an extraordinary creature.

“You are right,” he repeats, feeling the words on his tongue. He looks back to the inside of the palace and, for once, doesn’t dread going inside, doesn’t feel like he has to go inside at all. “This isn’t me. This is… I don’t even know what. I hate it. I don’t want this. I need to _leave_.”

“You can,” Armitage says, careful and sincere. “If you want to, I can show you the way.”

That night, prince Organa is declared missing.


End file.
